The sun. [volume] (Morris, Stevens County, Minn.) 1882-1895, 1887-10-27
The Ravens Message.

The Ravens Message.
! "Pierre's late tonight" said stout.
sunburned woman, who was standing
at the door Of log hut on a small.
rocky islet in the middle Of the Rhone.
II do hope nothing has happened to
him; he's so terribly venturesome since
he got boat OF his own"
Pooh. pooh!' answered her husband.
He'll come back all right never fear.
It's only proper that my boy should be
a ferryman like his father, and 80 he
must learn to manage boat See yon-
der he comes, rowing like any boat
man."
"But whatever has he brought with
himp" cried Nine. Lenoir, in amaze
ment.
What. indeedp At first sight, the
the sturdy little twelve-year-old. who
came skimming toward them
across the broad. shining stream. APP
peared to be wearing huge. black
overcoat, torn almost in two. But
second glance showed the strange OBJ
ject to be raven nearly as big as HIM
self, which hung loosely over his
shoulders, as If dead or badly hurt.
''See what I've got. mother!" cried
he, gleefully. II found it in the wood
yonder, with its wing broken. At first
it snapped at me and wouldn't let me
touch it. but it's quiet enough now.
Isn't 1t big onep''
'Oh. you dreadful boyr' cried his
mother. "What do you think we re
going to do with a great. ugly thing
like that about the housep And who's
going to feed it. prayp"
"Why, mother. you know you al
ways say that this house of ours on the
island is just like an ark; and Noah
had raven in his ark that he used to
send flying about and why should't wep
Besides, we can teach him to carry
messages for us, like that one that
Father Gregoire told us about tho other
day."
''Well. there's something in that"
said Jean Lenoir, laughing, land as
for feeding. raven can pick up his
own living any day; and besides, we
have always plenty of odds and ends of
fish. Bring him in, my boy. and we'll
see what can be done with him."
The broken wing soon healed, and
in few months Pierre's raven (named
"Christopher," in honor of the ferry.
mans patron saint) had become ia
nous through the whole country side.
Many bright silver franc did Pierre
pick up at the village fairs by making
the bird 60 through the tricks which
he had taught it; and when once it had
learned to carry messages, the people
along the river gave it SO many that
the postman used often to threaten it
jokingly with summons before the
magistrates for taking away his bust
ness.
Even Pierre's mother got reconcilied
to the great ugly thing at last; more
especially as the good priest of the
parish, Father Gregoire. was very fond
of it, and never came to see them with
out bringing something good in his
pocket for our friend Christopher.
Sometimes, indeed. as soon as the
kind clergyman's black cassock and
broad hat were seen on the opposite
bank, little Pierre would point and call
out Food Christopher!'' And the
raven. shooting like an arrow across
the river. would perch on the priest g
shoulder and thrust his great black bill
into the old mans pocket in search OF
food which he was always sure to find
there.
So matters went till one night in the
early Spring, when Jean Lenoir, COM
ing home tired after hard days
work, paused for moment, as he got
out of his boat, to notice a strange,
leaden dimness that overhung the
hills along the eastern sky.
eft must be raining hard up in the
Mountains said he to himself, and
then thought no more about it.
But at daybreak next morning he
awakened from a dream of being al
sea in storm, which seemed strangely
real after he was broad awake. Doors
were banging, windows rafting,
timbers creaking and grooming,
mingled with roaring and dashing as
if Niagara had been let loose close to
his ear. Hardly knowing what he did,
he sprang to the door and threw il
open, and instantly started back as il
he had been shot,
The water was within foot of the
| door SILL
Worse still, it was plainly rising
higher every moment. The Rhone,
swollen by the heavy rains and the
sudden melting of the mohnta:n SHOWS
had burst its banks and come down in
full flood. driven by such gale as had
not blown in these parts since the
great storm ten years before. AL
sorts of things went whir;ing past up
on the yellow foam-drowned sheep
hurdles, beams, boxes and uprootee
trees, upon one of which crouched .
poor little shivering dog. wailinf
piteously for the help that no ont
could give.
Jeans first thought was for his boat
but both it and the shed in which it wa!
moored were gone, as if they had never
been. Sick at heart he clambered NJ
into the loft after his wife and son. JUS
as the water came flooding in over the
door sill.
Meanwhile, an anxious crowd hat
gathered on the opposite bank. eager
to help the imperilled family on the
island But how was this to be donel
No boat could live in that boiling
food, and it seemed hopeless to thinl
of getting rope across.
The strongest man could not fling